Blizzard Warning
by mmouse15
Summary: Will Lennox and Ironhide are out looking at possible sites for an Autobot base when they get caught in a blizzard.


This story is written for the natural disaster challenge over on the LJ community flesh_and_steel. ETA: And it won the challenge! I forgot to mention that...

Title: Blizzard warning

By: mmouse15

Characters: Ironhide, Will Lennox

Rating: PG

Warnings: none

0o0o0o0o0o

Captain Will Lennox thanked the general who had given him the tour of the Piñon Canyon maneuver site in southeastern Colorado. Their area was acceptable for the training they used it for, but he could already tell that it couldn't be used by the Autobots – it was too close to towns and ranches, with the possibility of someone seeing one of the mechs in their bipedal form a very real danger to the secrecy of their mission. He exchanged a few words with the general's aide and turned to walk back to Ironhide, ready to get back to his motel room in La Junta and be done with this scouting for an area the Autobots could call home.

Ironhide had come along in his vehicle mode to give his own evaluation of the area. He quietly popped his door open as Will got closer and pulled himself up into the cab.

"This is not an acceptable area, Will." The voice had once sounded strange to Lennox, coming as it did out of the sound system of the truck.

He patted the steering wheel fondly. "I know. I'll let you make a databurst to Optimus, telling him so, as soon as these guys clear out. We wouldn't want them thinking we're spies or some such if they did happen to pick up that we're using a communication device they don't know about."

"Agreed. It can wait."

Will steered the Topkick after the first Humvee, a second Humvee swinging in behind the black truck. The training access was through Trinidad, toward the southern end of the maneuver site, but Lennox had asked if he could also evaluate the northern portion of the site, and the Army had graciously allowed this to happen. Thus, Lennox found himself splitting off from the Humvees once they'd reached the highway. He headed north while the Army brass headed south. He had about forty miles to get to the motel, which at Ironhide's normal speed would take less than an hour. He did think the Topkick was rather reckless in his driving habits.

"Will?" 'Hide's voice broke into his reverie. They had really found no good sites on the continental United States where the Autobots could be assured of secrecy. He was afraid they would be looking at one of the military bases that dotted the Pacific Ocean. An island was easier to keep secret, especially if the military already had a presence there. He finally shook himself and replied to Ironhide.

"Yeah, 'Hide?"

"Is it significant that in the past fifteen minutes, the ambient temperature has dropped twelve degrees Fahrenheit?"

"What?!" Will looked out the windshield – like everyone that had an intimate association with the Autobots, he'd stopped paying attention to the road and to what was going on outside as he let Ironhide drive him and sunk into his own thoughts.

The black clouds rolling in fast from the north sent a chill down his back. He knew those clouds.

"What is it?" The calm voice steadied him.

"It's snow. There's nothing out here to stop it, the wind is picking up…the snow's going to start flying and the wind will whip it around and you'll get so disoriented you won't know up from down."

Ironhide snorted. "I would not. I have sensors you've never even dreamed of, Will."

Will groaned and started scanning for a place to hole up and wait the storm out. There was no way they would make it to the town, and he wouldn't be able to survive out in the cold for long. He answered absently, "Yeah, but wasn't Bumblebee held by Sector Seven spraying him with liquid nitrogen?"

"Yes, but…"

"Trust me, 'Hide, this stuff can get that bad. Maybe not that cold, but it's little ice crystals that get everywhere. Turn here!" He pulled the steering wheel and Ironhide obediently turned on the dirt road. He stopped in front of the gate and Lennox flung himself out, running to the gate and unhooking the chain. The Topkick drove through and Will ran the gate shut, rehooking the chain and running back toward the truck. In the two minutes the entire maneuver had taken, the snow began to fly.

Once inside the cab, Will pointed to the barn that had caught his eye from the highway. "We're heading toward that building, 'Hide. Go!"

The Topkick dug his wheels in and powered his way to the barn, which was about 1000 ft away from the gate. By the time he'd covered half the distance, the barn was completely obliterated by the blowing snow and Will was gripping the edge of the seat, muttering a prayer under his breath. Ironhide switched on all his tracking devices. He'd already plotted the course to the barn's door and continued, slowing as he approached it. To his horror, he found some of his sensors unresponsive as the fine ice crystals penetrated the cracks of his vehicular form and slowed vital energy to a crawl. He flicked on the lights he rarely used, and Will breathed a sigh of relief as the barn loomed out of the snow, mere inches in front of Ironhide's front bumper.

Will opened the door and dropped to the ground, keeping his hand on Ironhide's door and then fender as he moved toward the front of the enormous black truck. Once there, he ran his hands along the door until he found an edge. He felt up and down, searching for the handle. Not finding it, he worked his way to the other edge, wishing he'd brought winter gear with him. He should know better, it was March after all and on the plains, snow was possible from September until May. He had a heavy coat, but no gloves or mittens and his hands were already numb. The scarf he'd wrapped around his head was frozen where his breath went through the cloth. The fine ice crystals stung his exposed skin, worse than the sand in Qatar. He fumbled along until he found a huge handle made of iron. A simple hinged fixture with a U-shaped piece of metal held the door closed. He pulled the U-shaped iron out and fumbled the hinge away from the staple, putting the simple lock back through the staple, then grabbed the handle and pulled. The door made an unearthly shriek as it was pulled along the wheeled track, but Lennox managed to get it open enough for Ironhide to pull in.

Ironhide, meanwhile, was having difficulty focusing. The ice was being blown into every crack and crevice in his frame, and he was having a great deal of difficulty getting enough energy to vital systems.

Will waited for Ironhide to move and when he didn't struggled back to the door and fumbled his way into the cab. For the first time since he'd met the mech, he had to put the truck in gear, hoping it would work and he could get Ironhide into the shelter of the barn.

As Will had hoped, a shut down Cybertronian behaved as the vehicle he was disguised as, and the Topkick rolled forward under his guidance.

The hay barn (for that is what it was) had bales of hay stacked up to the rafters on either side of the throughway Ironhide currently occupied. The barn had been constructed so that a flat bed tractor-trailer combination could pull in one door and out the other and hay could be loaded from both sides of the barn. A wagon was against the far door of the barn. Will was grateful that this particular rancher hadn't moved to the huge round bales of hay, which were stored outside. The hay in this barn made it quite cozy, or it would after Will got the door shut. He turned the engine off and again got out, trudging to the door and putting his shoulder to it, moving the door along its track and getting it as closed as he could.

The absence of noise and light was both startling and welcome. Blowing on his hands and tucking them in his armpits, Will moved back to Ironhide and called his name.

"'Hide?"

There was no response. Will really hadn't expected one, given Ironhide's almost complete shut-down a few minutes ago. He climbed up the hay stack, investigating his surroundings and using the movements to warm himself.

0o0o0o0o0o

There was nothing except hay, himself, Ironhide, and the wagon. For the time being, he focused on Ironhide, who was completely unresponsive to his calls. The temperature was so low that the snow which had come in with them wasn't melting. Will moved under the truck and began scooping the ice and snow away from Ironhide's frame, dropping it onto the ground beneath him. He pulled out as much as he could, moving backwards under the huge truck. Once he'd traversed the entire frame, he crawled out and moved to the driver's door, finding the latch to pop the hood and pulling it.

He moved to the front and finished unlatching the hood of Ironhide's alt mode, then pushed the hood up. He gasped at the amount of snow that had blown under Ironhide's frame and over the false engine. There was snow everywhere! It was lodged on top of the engine block, blown into the many crevices from the different parts that made up Ironhide's completely false engine. Lennox did his best, brushing and blowing the snow away and towards any opening that might lead down…his father would have proclaimed that this engine did not pass the tool test, and Lennox made a passing wish that it would have enough clearance around it such that a dropped tool would land on the ground – getting the snow out was quite difficult, but he persevered.

When he'd done as much as he could, he went back to the cab and dug around in his gear, finding the space blankets he always carried with him. He unwrapped two of them, reserving the third for himself, and pushed and tucked the two blankets over and around Ironhide's engine compartment, knowing that somehow, the mech's head and probably his processor were hiding in that engine somehow. Shaking his head and refusing to think too deeply about the physics of the transformation, he focused on using the blankets to keep the warmth inside the engine compartment. Once the blankets were arranged to his satisfaction, he stepped up on the bumper and gently closed the hood, not latching it, and stepped down.

He moved over to the steps created by the hay and climbed to the top of the stack. His fingers weren't working properly, and he once again tucked them under his armpits as he surveyed the barn and the raw materials available to him. Ironhide was pulled in, nose to the tongue of an old wagon. The wagon was made of thick wood with iron bands securing the planking that created the floor of the wagon. The wheels were wooden with an iron band around the perimeter of the wheel, and the sides were simple slats, designed to keep the hay in but not much else. The biggest change that had been done to the old wagon was to change the tongue so that it would be pulled by a tractor rather than by horses. On the other side of the barn was a stack of hay similar to the one he was standing on. The floor of the barn was covered with stray bits of hay, and Will had a flash – Ironhide would be cold on the bottom! However, he had high enough clearance that Will thought he could get some hay under the engine compartment and help with the warming. He threw half a dozen bales down, then climbed back down to the ground and started shoving the bales under Ironhide.

Once that was done, he stood back and evaluated. Insulation below, blankets above, he'd done his best for Ironhide. Wearily, he grabbed his third space blanket and climbed up the hay again, finding a little nest among the hay. He wrapped himself in the space blanket and curled up to get some sleep.

0o0o0o0o0o

What little sleep he was able to get was not restful. It was cold; the wind continued to blow, and it was dark. Having gotten so cold, it took a long while for Will to warm up enough to even think of sleep, and then he kept jerking himself awake, unable to remember if it was a bad idea or not to go to sleep in these weather conditions. If he'd been able, he would recognized the signs of hypothermia in himself and taken steps, but with no help, he'd done the best he could. He was sheltered and what body heat he did have was being conserved by the blanket and the hay surrounding him. He finally drifted off and was unaware when Ironhide finally thawed enough to reboot.

The weapons specialist gradually became more aware of his surroundings. He let his systems boot up as they would. Oddly enough, some of his sensors were warm, while others were…cold? Yes, cold. Their calibrations were messed up, and Ironhide couldn't ping them to find out what was wrong. He waited as patiently as he ever did until he had more response. His internal chronometer showed that three hours had passed, and it was dark and cold. When he was finally able, he cast about and found Will's location, above him and to the side, curled up and sleeping. The man was cooler than normal and was restless, muttering in his sleep.

Ironhide sent a databurst to Ratchet, detailing the fruitless trip to the maneuver site and including Will's current condition and in turn was sent a file with the warning signs of something called hypothermia and the treatment thereof. The best thing to do was get Will warm, internally and externally. Ironhide tried his transformation sequence and found that he could slowly change into his mech form. Two sheets of silvery material were caught in some of his joints, and he had to carefully work them out of his shoulder seams before finishing his transformation. There were also blocks of organic material directly under him. He did his best to not damage them. Once in mech form, he could easily stand in the barn. In fact, Optimus could have stood in this barn, which was forty feet tall at the peak of the roof. Ironhide shifted the organic blocks away, toward the wagon, and folded up the blankets, tucking them under his armor. Once he transformed, the blankets would be in the cab of the truck.

Up on the hay, Will was slightly above his head. Ironhide moved the bales aside and scooped Will up, bringing the man to his chest. He slid some of the plates apart, bringing Will close to his spark but not parting the last barrier between his spark and the man. Ratchet had warned him that they did not know if the emissions from their spark were deadly to humans yet, so he should keep a shield between the human and his spark.

Will turned toward the heat of the spark, cuddling into the warmth unconsciously. Ironhide sat down, leaning against the hay and curling himself over the Will. He adjusted the blanket so Will's back wasn't exposed to the cold, tucking the edges around the man's body and remembering when he'd done the same thing for sparklings, back on Cybertron. He fell back into recharge, comforted that he was doing his best for the man that was his closest human partner.

0o0o0o0o0o

When Will woke, there was weak sunlight poking its way through the cracks of the doors. He was dry and very warm, curled like a child in Ironhide's massive arms. The mech himself was sitting, hunched over Will and as Lennox watched, the optics lit up and focused on him.

"Feeling better?"

Will took careful stock. He'd gotten too cold, but that problem had been fixed, so he replied in the affirmative. "Yeah. I'm good. Why did I wake up?"

"I don't know."

Will accepted that answer, but put himself to taking stock of the world around him, since he trusted his training – if he woke up, it was for a reason.

A shift in wind brought the growl and clank of a tracked vehicle. Lennox and Ironhide both sprang into action, Ironhide folding himself down into truck form and Will putting himself on the bales of hay in front of Ironhide, wrapping the blanket around himself and pretending to be asleep.

A few minutes later, the door to the barn started to open. Will sat up and stretched, sliding the blanket off himself. He gave passing thought to the other two, but looked around and didn't see them. He went over to the door and put his shoulder to it, helping whomever was on the other side get the door opened. A startled face came around the edge of the door.

"Sorry, sir. My name is Major Will Lennox, and I had to take shelter in your barn. I hope you don't mind." Will stuck out his hand in greeting.

The rancher pulled the huge mitten off his hand and shook Will's hand in return. "Nice ta meetcha. Name's John Fordam. Nah, I don't mind. I'm glad you could get out of that storm."

The two men pushed the door aside, slow work because of the buildup of snow, then evaluated. John was driving an old D2 Caterpillar tractor and was lucky to own a tracked vehicle, since no other vehicle would be getting around in all this snow. The sunlight glinting off the snow was blinding, and snow lay four feet deep around the barn, a glittered expanse broken only but the fence line and the tracks of the tractor. Will turned and looked into the barn.

"Well, I think I can get my truck out of the way so you can get your wagon. I'll help you load the hay, too, in thanks for the shelter."

John looked doubtfully at the Topkick and then at the snow. "Well, I don't know. Y'can try, but I don't think you'll be able to get that truck out of there."

Will just grinned at him, "This truck is modified and you'd be amazed at what it can do."

"Sure. I'll just back up a bit. If nothing else, we can throw a rope around your bumper and drag your truck out of the way."

Will nodded and went to the driver's door. Ironhide didn't pop the door for him as he often did, but let Will be in control. Lennox climbed up and settled himself, pushing the blankets aside and reaching for the key. As soon as he touched it, Ironhide started his engine. Will moved the gear shift to reverse and let Ironhide go.

The Topkick roared out of the barn, attaining high speed unnaturally quickly and exploding out of the barn. Ironhide made it one hundred feet before stopping, having easily cleared the entryway to the barn and given himself maneuvering room as a bonus. Will patted the steering wheel.

"Damn. We might actually be able to pull this off. Remember, you're a truck, stay put until this guy's gone!"

"Yes, Will," was the quiet mutter in reply. Will gave him another pat and hopped out, floundering in the deep snow until he could reach one of the tire tracks and walk back to the barn.

John had spun his tractor around and backed into the barn, hooking the wagon to the PTO of the tractor. He had already heaved two bales upon the wagon when Will joined him.

Nodding, Will climbed up on the wagon to stack. John grinned at him and handed him a pair of hay hooks and a spare pair of insulated gloves. Grateful for the hand protection, Will pulled the gloves on and prepared to stack hay.

Fifteen minutes later, the wagon was fully loaded with hay, and John was telling Will where he was and how close he was to the nearest town as Will folded his space blanket and tucked it in his pocket.

"If you can get to the highway, you'll be fine. There's only a couple of inches on the road 'cause it's raised. It's getting there that's going to be the problem, although I will admit I never expected you to be able to get that far out, so you might be able to do it. I'd help, but I've got 300 head that need this hay."

"Yeah, I understand. Look, if nothing else, I'll just stay here if I can't get out and catch a ride with you. You're coming back here, right?"

"Yeah, it's the best place for the wagon. It's going to take me a couple of hours, though."

"I understand. You need to get going, John, and I really do thank you for the use of the barn. Perhaps I'll see you later, but for now I'll try it my way."

"Good luck to ya, Major." John shook his hand and refused the return of the gloves, climbing up on his tractor and pulling out slowly. The wagon was durable, well built for this, and John wasn't going fast. Will trudged along Ironhide's track and looked back. A smudge in the distance was probably John's herd, blown by the wind until they reached a barrier, then moving along it. Will mentally wished him luck and hoped he would have lost too many of his cattle. Rebuilding a herd after a storm like this was expensive and heart-breaking.

Making it back to Ironhide, Will climbed in the truck's cab. He spent the next couple of minutes folding the other space blankets while he and Ironhide talked about the best way to get back to the road. Finally acceding to Ironhide's judgment, Will let the Topkick make the attempt to get back to the road. The snow was too deep, and Ironhide soon found himself stuck. Will laughed, giddy with the freedom of being alive and awake and mostly safe. Ironhide then did something and popped free of the mound of snow he was buried behind, crashing through the pile and on the other side. He continued to do this until they reached the gate. Will climbed out of the cab and looked back. 'Hide had been very careful, and it looked as if the truck had simply powered through the drifts. Will knew differently, but was grateful that he would have to explain mech tracks or alien sightings to anyone. He was lucky; John had already cleared a path for the gate with the blade on his tractor so Will had an easy time of swinging the gate open. Ironhide simply drove through as Will swung the gate around, then back and hooked the chain around the gate. He walked back to the truck and climbed in gratefully, glad to be almost out of this situation.

Forty minutes later, they were in La Junta, Colorado, where Lennox found his motel and let them know that he wouldn't be using the reservation he'd made. He found a café in the main part of town and ordered a huge breakfast, eating it quickly so he could get back on the road. He heard the news that this storm had shut everything down from Raton, New Mexico to Cheyenne, Wyoming, and while the snowplows had cleared the highways, he would be better off staying put. He thanked the woman but chose instead to find a small convenience store and grab some supplies before heading out. Three hours later, he pulled up to the gate of Fort Carson at the southern end of Colorado Springs and was shown to guest quarters. He called his liaison on a secured line and made his report, knowing that Optimus would have already passed on the report but following military protocol anyway before collapsing in his quarters for a long sleep. Two days later, he and Ironhide rejoined the rest of the Autobots in Nevada. He was grateful that they had survived the storm and also that he'd had the knowledge and training to know what to do – he couldn't image what would have happened had Jazz and Epps been the team sent to evaluate the southern Colorado military sites!

The End!


End file.
